


(Don't) Kill Me Now

by musicanova



Series: Barricade Boys AUs [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkwardness, Bahorel is afraid of the dark, Feuilly just REALLY wants his damn blue label whiskey, I suppose there's also, M/M, Marius's sob story, Meet-Cute, Meet-Ugly, No one likes winter, Or More Like, Pining Marius, Winter, fear of darkness, so I guess like warning for that, who really wants Cosette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 07:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5777032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicanova/pseuds/musicanova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "OMG. So I was walking back to my apartment and I heard some footsteps and I turned around and there was this guy running straight for me. I started panicking thinking he wanted to wear my skin as a dress. He gets closer and sees me, looking startled. And then he goes, “OMG I DIDN’T SEE YOU I’M SO SORRY. I WAS RUNNING BECAUSE I’M SCARED OF THE DARK.”" [<a href="http://rexuality.tumblr.com/post/101142241466/omg-so-i-was-walking-back-to-my-apartment-and-i">x</a>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Don't) Kill Me Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [feuillyish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feuillyish/gifts).



> Very dark and cold during a blackout in winter?? Sucks, right? So I tried... to write this for you. It didn't really work, but emphasis on the _try_ , right? Right.
> 
> Anyway... Seeing as your fave is Feuilly and I literally cannot ship him with anyone else but Bahorel, there's that for the first story of this could be series? I mean, it's not a proper Les Mis story without E/R and Courferre :3
> 
> Once again: I tried.

There were often times when Feuilly regretted the friendships he'd made in his life time. It wasn't because he was a horrible person per se, he was just... exasperated at life, sometimes. (Don't judge him, he just finished a 16 hour shift.)

But this? Why, this was most certainly one of those times. 

It was right smack bang in the middle of red noses and frozen fingers (winter, if you couldn't identify by the description), and it also happened to be the arse crack of dawn no thanks to  _Marius_ , Feuilly glared at the ground in a futile attempt to make it crumble into oblivion, who decided it would be a 'wonderful, great, best idea ever!' to crack open his entire alcohol cabinet, wallowing over the fact that he couldn't get himself a girlfriend. 

 

"She won't even look at me, Feu!" Marius had sobbed straight into the whiskey.

And that was some damn good Blue Label stuff, could cost up to 300 dollars and he was watering it down with his tears; he'd been getting his education on alcohol from Grantaire. And for  _God's sake_ he thought he'd already told everyone to stop calling him "Feu" it made him sound like a  _foo_ l. (Ha. Get it? Get it?) 

"Try singing 'The Girl from Ipanema' to her, then," Feuilly growled, slowly losing his patience as he listened to him slobber about. 

"What has that got to do with anything?" the boy sniffled, and  _hot damn_ if he  _dared_ to get snot in that Johnnie Walker Blue Label Whiskey before Feuilly could get his hands on it-  _Control, Feuilly. Keep those thoughts for later._

"Well Marius, if you yanked your head out yer arse for once," he sighed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes. 

He wasn't good at singing. He didn't  _want_ to sing.

But five shots of vodka, half a bottle of bourbon and a yearning for some Blue Label does things to one's mind. 

 _"Oh, but I watch her so sadly_  
_How can I tell her I love her_  
_Yes, I would give my heart gladly_  
_But each day as she walks to the sea_  
_She looks straight ahead, not at me"_

"Hey I know that song!" Marius' head popped up excitedly, and Feuilly caught the bottle in his hand that almost crashed to the ground, only allowing a small droplet to fall out of it. (He was going to lick that off the ground later; allow him to reiterate:  _It's Blue Friggin' Label._ )

"Well sing it to her." 

He'd promptly left after that, sneaking the whiskey into his coat and braving the wilderness of the cold, hard bitumen roads. 

 

"Kill me now," he mutters to himself, puffs of his breath forming in the cold - night or morning, he isn't sure anymore - air, his footsteps hard and angry in the thin layer of snow dusting the streets. 

He's kinda drunk, he's  ~~kinda~~ extremely cold, he doesn't  _actually_ want to die, but as fate would have it, he has a real, actual, legitimate serial killer charging at him like a rogue bull.

The Serial Killer's smart, Feuilly's gotta give it to him. To choose a street that's small enough to not even have street lights to murder in... well that's one point to him, not that Feuilly's been keeping up a tally.

He's getting closer though, and he's literally sprinting full force in a path that could only meet in Feuilly's death and he can see the guy's face and  _why_ does he have to die tonight of all nights without getting to savour the taste of that Blue Label whiskey he stole off of Marius, and without being able to fend for himself physically (he  _knew_ he should have listened to Enjolras when he said they should all take Karate classes), and this serial killer is actually kind of hot which is really unfortunate because  _Feuilly is going to die right no-_

"Oh my  _God_ I'm so sorry, I must've given you such a fright!" the man stutters out, feet tripping over each other as they come to a halt. "It's just- the dark, man. Can't get any less scared of it no matter how old I get. And there are no lamps in this street at all? Like how am I supposed to see? And it's..." he pauses, trying to find a word. "Scary." 

So  _apparently_ , Feuilly isn't going to die right now. Because Serial Killer's not a serial killer. He's just a man afraid of the dark. 

Also apparently, Feuilly's brain has short-circuited in the presence of kind-of-hot- _not_ -serial-killer, and he's already got enough bourbon in his system to loosen his tongue, and he's producing the Blue Label out of his coat and holding it out.

"You can pay me back for knocking five years off my life with this," he says matter-of-factly. "Drink with me." 

~*~

There weren't many times in Bahorel's life where he could say his fear of darkness brought something good in life. 

Seeing the big buff guy scream because someone turned the lights off in the bathroom seemed to be infinitely hilarious to other people.

Black outs during school always lead to teasing. 

He always sensed his father eyeing the night light that glowed softly in his room when he was tucked into bed. 

He was a simple man: studied hard throughout college in something he had interest in, still had that night light to keep him company at night, lived in a small apartment with nothing extravagant but everything he needed, and he even had a fridge full of eggs that he could eat without being permitted (a number one priority for him, he's said it time and time again).  

 _But_ this _, this is the one good thing that's come out being afraid of the dark_ , Bahorel smiled to himself, tucked in against Feuilly's side as snowflakes floated outside the window. 

"I'm glad, you know?" he whispers into the room that is illuminated by the mellow light of his life-time companion (a.k.a Mr. Night Light, don't judge him he named it when he was four).

"Mmmm?" is all he gets in response.

"I'm glad you thought I was going to kill you last year." 

"To be honest I would've preferred a better way of meeting," the other man mumbles back, rubbing at his eyes. 

"Nonsense," he chuckles against his boyfriend's (Boyfriend. Bahorel has a  _boyfriend_ now) lips. "You love it." 

**Author's Note:**

> Allow me to reiterate: I tried.
> 
> They're so OOC I'm crying I'm sorry it probably would have helped if I proofread it or got Raveen to beta I'M SORRY


End file.
